In Love with Music
by ZirciX
Summary: Mikan is in love with music. When Narumi-sensei asks her to go to the best art academy in the nation, she accepts without a second thought. But little did she know of the chaotic mess of the rebellions within the academy...
1. Prologue

**A/N: Hey everyone! ZirciX on her third fanfic! Whew, I'm on a roll these days; I'm finally out of my writer's block! Hope you enjoy, please R&R!**

**Disclaimer: ZirciX doesn't own Gakuen Alice... because it'd be a catastrophe if she did, in many ways than just one. **

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Falling in love, I decided, was the best feeling ever in the world. My love was a bit unusual, though, and not many people would see my lover as I saw it. Yes, I said _it_. Because, of all the detestable, disgusting creatures and things in this crappy world, I'd found something extraordinarily, exquisitely and unexplainably beautiful – music. I was in love with music, and no one, not even my uncooperative parents or disapproving schoolmates were going to stop me. I was going to be the world's best musician.

But fate proved me wrong – it had other boring plans in stock for me, what my mother would've called a _realistic, rational future_. Sometimes I wondered if the entire world was my parents' henchmen, and that everyone was actually working under them to make my painfully uneventful life as stressful and dull as possible, kind of like the Truman Show, you know?

Well, anyways, here I am now, in the same room I'd lived in for the last fourteen years, facing the cruel fact that rammed into me like a cannonball, straight into my guts; _I had zero musical talent_. My passion, my efforts, the last twelve years that I spent learning music, it was all for nothing. _Nothing_. Maybe you don't know how I feel right now, and I don't blame you when you think I sound all-too-familiar like a pms-ing bitch, but this really crushed me, drove me off the edge of a cliff. My childish hopes of getting accepted to Julliard seem like a distant fairytale dream. It's impossible for me. The freaking ridiculous school had prodigies younger than me! And, of course, the brilliant moi is right here, barely able to play a simple (not!) sonata by Bach. I feel downright pathetic.

To be honest, I was disheartened frequently, though I never showed it. I was well aware of my inabilities and limits, but I thought, I hoped, that if I just had the will and practiced hard enough, I'd be able to improve. Violin, flute, piano, viola, cello, bass, guitar, drums, keyboard, classic, jazz, funk, hard metal, rock, blue, new age, I'd tried so many instruments and so many genres to fail all in the end. I stuck with piano, because my motivation to start music had come from a famous piano player, Narumi-sensei.

Okay, for those who do not understand what gibberish nonsense I'm spouting, here is a simplified version of my life story:

Once upon a time, there was a music-loving, medium-sized, mediocre musician named Mikan. She was stupid and ordinary, and grew up with constant reminders of her idiocy and dissatisfaction from her own parents. Her world was monotonous – she had no friends, the pressure from her family was unbearable, and all the schools she attended were all-girls elite private schools, which immediately made her grades and looks twice as shocking as the usual effect it had. To top it off, she could beat a pit bull in a contest of stubbornness. One day, she discovered her magic prince she was waiting for all her life. His name was Music, and his original plan was to save Mikan; however, due to her utterly pitiful looks and a head without a brain, he ditched her in the middle of a dusty road. She chased after him for years, but one day she looked back and realized she hadn't moved an inch from the spot where she was abandoned.

Which brings me back to reality. I'm here on my bedroom floor, starving because I was crying for hours without food. I never felt like such a failure at life and/or being a worthy human being. Emphasis on the worthy part. I must commit hara-kiri so my honor will be preserved till the end! Wait, I don't want to die yet… I don't even have a knife, and my stomach will probably spill acid if I stab myself in the wrong place. That is _not_ a pleasant thought.

In the mirror, I look like a savage beast with giant red swollen eyes, runny nose (gross), messy hair and questionable hygiene. I can't believe the ridiculous state I'm in.

Get this straight – I am not, _not_, NOT an easily discouraged person. Hell, if you told me I should commit suicide because I was pitiful, in my normal state, I'd spit back at your face, "I have a life unlike you, depressed bitch, so fuck off!" or something like that. Now, I would just nod in agreement and discuss with myself the fastest way to die.

Anyways, summer is almost over and obviously my parents have given up all hope on me. I have to choose what the hell I'm supposed to do with my future from now on and get into a high school. Depressing much? You know the answer; HELL YES!

I'd already scanned the computer for music-related boarding schools around my house. None are too good, and it's not like I would be able to get in anyways. Of course, there is _one_ boarding school that I desperately want to go to, the all-famous Alice Academy. The main school is in Europe, but there is a branch in US as well. It's basically a school with thousands of music nerds, freaks, prodigies, and artistic people. If I can get in, I won't have any trouble going to Julliard. The problem is the getting in part. I can enroll a million times and get a million rejection letters back. Oh wait, I forgot, _no one cares enough to give rejection letters to failures these days!_ I know their standard expectations, and the chances of me getting accepted are N-E-V-E-R.

So my options are: a. runaway and live in a cardboard box for the rest of my life, b. go to a crappy school, don't give a damn about work, and end up in a cardboard box, or c. go to school, do give a damn about work, and still end up in a cardboard box. Is it just me, or is it definite that my future house is a cardboard box?

Thinking too much is giving me a headache, because I'm just stupid like that. My brain doesn't function like normal people. So, I do what seems like the most reasonable thing to do – take a walk.

I'm walking with a cap on to hide my oh-so-clean hair when I see this narcissistic weirdo-freak admiring himself in the mirror at the park. That isn't the surprising part, though, what really is astonishing is that he's playing the piano at an insane speed with skin-tight black jeans and long sweater with the suspicious-looking sunglasses and all that under a 98 degree Californian sunlight. _It was freaking summer, goddamnit!_

Wait, I know that song… oh god, it couldn't be Rachmaninov Concerto No. 2? He's playing it perfectly while checking his _teeth_ in the mirror! Before I know it, I run up to the grand piano on the stage and watch him, wide-eyed, as his fingers dance on the keys in a blur, literally. By the time he's finished, I swear my jaw is dragging on the ground.

"What is up with you freaking crazy person? How can you play _that_ song while looking in the _mirror_?" I shake him madly by his shoulders. "WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?"

The dude just stares back at me like I descended from a UFO. Hysteria rises up from inside, and I begin to have muscle spasm somewhat similar to seizures. "I would've given anything to have musical talent like you! Why not me? When I love music more than anything in the world… what was I doing for the last twelve years?" I speak in a barely audible whisper.

Suddenly, he pulls off his sunglasses as I instantly recognize his face. I step back, tripping over my own feet like an idiot. "Na… Narumi-sensei?" I gawk.

"As expected, my beauty will be noticed anywhere in the world! Ah, the joy of being a gorgeous person!" he exclaims. That's all it takes to crumble the perfect, gentlemanly image I'd had of my idol since I was two. Ah, the joy of worsening the worst day of my life! One word: FML.

"Your Rachmaninov Concerto No. 2… it was astounding, and I love your interpretation of it, but I think it could've been a bit heavier, you know? And add an orchestra; without it, you lose the _umph_ of the entire piece. Yes, like Mr. Persona's version. Gosh, I loved it when I went to his concert; he had such a dark and formidable aura, I was holding my breath when he came onto the stage. It was as if the world existed for him and him only at that moment…" I comment dreamily, not once noticing the sour look from Narumi-sensei. When I catch him glaring at me like he wants to punch the lights out of me, I hastily add, "But you've been my idol for the last twelve years. Mr. Persona had too much of that ominous power in his style. I was inspired to start music because of you… though that kinda failed." I laugh uneasily. His shining killer-smile reforms on his face. Talk about pms-ing like a bitch.

Suddenly, he yanks my arm that my shoulder almost dislocates and seats me before the grand piano. "Play a song you enjoy playing," he commands.

"E-eh? Um, I'm like, a fricken amateur with absolute zero talent, and you're like, a pro that's been playing for over 20 years… have you kinda thought about that?" I ask nervously, but a murderous glint in his eyes shut me up.

"Relax, I'm not gonna bite you. I just want to test your skills – you said you've been playing for twelve years," he says. I sigh timidly, wishing that I wasn't so stupid to have come out for a walk today. Too late now, it's either public humiliation or manslaughter, and I'm too young to die!

I start off with an Eb diminished chord, playing my favorite jazz song called Misty. Before I learned about this song, I'd never known that jazz music could sound so serene, not that I knew shit about jazz. The tension in my body slowly wears off, and I complete the song with only a couple of mistakes, that I can always call 'ad-libbing.' This is the reason why I love jazz so much!

When I finish, I looked up, grasping the situation once again as I squirm under Narumi-sensei's gaze. He thinks it's terrible, so bad that he was embarrassed just hearing it! Maybe the day for me to die has finally come. I prepare myself to be plummeted and ridiculed with criticism.

"Well, you certainly are an amateur, and you made over ten mistakes, plus you're lacking in techniques and need to shape up quite a bit, but you really like music, don't you?" he asks softly. I stare at him in shock. Well, this is not what I was expecting, it should've been more like "You call that crap-noise music?" or "You're an utter failure".

"I love music, of course! My stubbornness all really originates from passion. If I didn't like it, then I would've given up when I saw I had no talent, which was, what, the second I touched an instrument?" I answer. "But… I guess it's impossible for me after all. I can't get into music schools, I have bad grades and records, and I'm going to end up in a cardboard box for sure!" I lower my head in defeat.

"Would you like to come to Alice Academy?" he asks. For a millisecond, I thought he was serious. Of course I hallucinated, or day dreamed, or –

"WHAT? ALICE ACADEMY? ARE YOU SERIOUS, I'M LIKE WAAAYYY DOWN THEIR AVERAGE STANDARD, THERE'S NO WAY I CAN GET IN!" I scream.

"Calm down, I'll send in a recommendation letter for you. Although you seem like you haven't had proper education for piano, your sense on expressing music and putting sentimental values into it is a talent not many possess." I think I faint then, but I'm not sure. Everything else just happens in a haze, and when I come to, my parents have agreed, for they see nothing in me that can make me succeed in my future. I'm going to Alice Academy. Finally, it feels like I'm beginning to get a bit of the 'happily ever after' I deserve! I'm not going to be stuck in a cardboard box for the rest of my life!

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**A/N: Hara-kiri is what samurais did when they went against the chivalry between samurais. Basically, you stab yourself and try to make a triangle on your belly, or die trying. Painful, huh?**

**I am not a regular updater, so don't expect me to have a chapter done every week. I'll rush things and update 4 chapters in a week, or not update at all for 2 months. I'm sorry if it causes an inconvenience to you readers. Remember, nothing encourages a writer more than feedbacks and reviews!**


	2. Mikuo!

**Hey everybody, ZirciX present here! I was trying to think of an interesting plot... then I decided to go all cliche again, and I'm doing a gender-bender fanfic. I hope it's up to your standards. I couldn't stop thinking about it all day long at school! Much appreciation to cookies277 and marjie-chan for adding me to the story alert/favorites. Please enjoy, and remember to R&R!**

**P.S. I have an odd obsession for martial arts and such, so Mikan is not such a clumsy character anymore now! *sigh* I think I'm making her waaayyyy OOC. She's still an airhead though, with better social-life understanding.**

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Oh my god. Am I really here? I hope this is not another hallucination. Maybe someone put drugs in my food… or maybe I voluntarily took them.

**Did I tell you that I'm the most untalented musician in the entire world? Oh yeah, I forgot, if I call myself a musician, then all the professional musicians in the world would be insulted to the point of committing suicide.**

Did I also tell you that I got accepted to the St. Alice Institute of Young Artists (a.k.a. Alice Academy)? I feel like I just ruined the entire world of music. I really couldn't care less right now. Because I'm here, and I'll make sure by the time I graduate, I'll kick ass at playing piano! Or at least I can hope.

Anyhoo, it's my first day of school, and also the first day in the dormitory. Since I was accepted pretty late, I'm supposed to be in a special dorm with other special people who are special cases. All these 'special's are getting me really nervous.

"Mikan, come quickly! We have to unload your luggage and get you to school straight away; you can't be tardy on your first day, right?" Narumi-sensei yells, waving his hands frantically in the air.

"Comin'!" I yell back. The moment I step out, though, I'm gaping at the gigantic Tudor styled building, supposedly my dorm, in front of me. How much fricken pig-load of money did these people have? This is totally not what I expected to see, especially in the middle of, well, the _Rocky Mountains_, not marked in any local maps available. They might as well have a humongous post that says **Welcome to the Place Officially Known as Freaking Nowhere**.

I hastily show my gratitude to the people who carry my bags of junk and stuff away, then run up to Narumi-sensei.

"Where's my uniform?" I ask. It's a private school, obviously, and all my life, I've been going to private schools with uniforms.

"Oh, you'll get it soon, but we don't have it for you right now. You mind if I drive you up to the high school section? The campus is awfully big," Narumi-sensei waves away his hand, and a black sleek limo comes up immediately. This is getting so ridiculous.

"Yes, please," I quietly mutter in response, cussing at the damn rich brats I'm most likely to meet.

The high school section looks fancier than Mr. President's own house. I really wonder if the architect of the campus was actually a crack addict at the time, and he drew the blueprint while dreaming of a palace in India. The marble floor, the Corinthian columns, rich tapestries, there was so much! So much money that I could've had to get proper piano lessons rather than watch tutorials on YouTube!

Narumi-sensei motions me to wait in front of a door, and he walks into the so-called 'classroom,' and says the introductions. I fidget nervously, ruffling my short, auburn hair and dusting my oversized sweatshirt and skater jeans. For the first time, I hate myself for not having a keen fashion sense.

"Here is Mikuo Sakura. Come in," Narumi-sensei says. I arch my eyebrow, wondering since when my name was a boy's name. Probably inaccurate information.

"Wazzup?" I half-heartedly throw my best greeting in a deadpan voice. The girls all murmur in excitement, squealing. What was their problem?

I quickly scan the room to gather all the characteristics of the cliques and groups. Some guys glare at me, which is really baffling, although I never drop my impassive face mask.

"Mikuo, take a seat over there at the back," Narumi-sensei orders me. I give him a questioning look, but decide to go with his little play. It was a cool name, after all.

I walk to the back of the room, slumping down in the chair. Some random dude is sleeping with a manga covering his face, and a blondy next to him is eyeing me. Rich brats.

"Our first class is Theory, and since I'm feeling sick today, I'll have the usual substitute take over. Bye-bye!" With that, he runs out of the classroom. Is it really okay for _teachers to cut school?_

As soon as he's gone, the class suddenly turns into a bunch of retarded delinquents. The substitute gets plummeted by spitballs, paper airplanes and pencils, and he also dashes out of the room, yelling, "Today's also a free study session period!"

I sigh heavily, wondering if I was going to be able to catch up with teachers like that. Plugging the headphones into my ears, I turned up the iPod volume and blocked out the noisy surrounding. Keeping up a façade is already getting really tiring, and I sometimes think it's retarded that I have to act this way, but I don't want to be marked as the school's dork again.

Closing my eyes, I sigh again. _Watermark_, by Enya, starts playing, and I finger the notes, tapping on the desk. The melody really flows like water.

Suddenly, what I can only describe as a stampeding horde of mad (and I mean _really_ crazed) girls rip away the ear buds, and their screams instantly gets my muscles frozen. Maybe I was already marked as the new victim. Oh shit. That was not good news.

"Ohmigod, what instrument do you play? Your amber hair is so gorgeous, and you look so cute like a girl! What type of girls do you prefer?" the girls shriek in my ear. I move away from them, already starting to feel claustrophobic. I'm a b'Jesus Christing girl! And definitely NOT lesbian, not that I have anything against them.

"Piano. Not interested in relationships currently. I already have a lover," I answer. God, why does my voice sound so husky when I'm speaking to strangers? Another weird quirk of mine, I suppose.

"WHO IS YOUR LOVER?" They burst out. Jeez, there's nothing like a group of adrenaline-fueled jealous girls.

"Not telling," I sigh, then plug back in the ear buds. No way I'm telling them that I loved music like a lover; they'll look at me like I'm a pitiful single for the rest of the years I'll spend here. The girls whine, and for a second, they look like dangerous creatures, the ones that know how to stalk people. Oh wait, those species are called Desperate Single Girls!

Just then, a pair of hands grabs my collar. Instinctively, I throw a random punch. A second later, it registers into my brain, and I stand up looking as dumbfounded as the group of girls. A girl lies writhing on the floor, grabbing her stomach in pain while trying to breathe. Why did my brother have to teach me martial arts?

"I'm so sorry, it wasn't on purpose! Try to inhale," I apologize as I kneel down on the ground, sitting her up in my lap. She looks up at me with her black eyes that are inflamed with fury, and a small gasp slips out from my lips.

"Ho… taru? Hotaru Imai?" I whisper in shock. To put it shortly, she was my long lost uncle's grandfather's cousin's great-granddaughter's God mother's sister-in-law's daughter, also my best friend. We were pen pals after she moved to Austria to study abroad and learn more about violin.

"Mikan, I'm going to FUCKING KILL YOU!" she yells.

"How? I… I thought you were in Austria…" I trail off. The girls start talking amongst themselves.

"Um, Mikuo is she your… lover?" a girl asks. I shake my head.

"Just friends. I'm engaged, by the way," I reply, adding in a little something to make them give up on me. Frankly, I'd rather be surrounded by hot and/or cute guys that admire me than lunatic girls.

Technically, it's true, since my parents would never let me marry anyone unless they met all the requirements and standards. They probably planned on arranging my marriage, anyways.

"Shut the fuck up, I can't sleep," spits the dude who had a manga over his head, impaling us all with daggers from his eyes. My face hardens back into an expressionless blankness.

"_Mikuo_, I have things to _discuss_ with you. Outside, now," she commands me as I chuckle.

"Yes, of course, your majesty," I answer, picking her up like a princess and jump out the window. Long story, I'll tell you later about the crazy martial arts stuff.

"Why are you here? Dressed as a _guy_?" she hisses. I roll my eyes, exaggerating my sigh. Despite my efforts, I keep feeling a grin making its way to the corner of my mouth. Everything seems so much better now that she's here!

"Narumi-sensei and I had a fated encounter, and he wrote me a recommendation letter. I love that dude so much, he's hilariously narcissistic!" I exclaim.

"Just telling you, if they find out about your real identity, the girls are going to massacre you for making fun of them. Why didn't you register as a girl in the first place?" she asks.

"I didn't, Narumi-sensei filled out the form… oh shit, that goddamn bastard couldn't have... he seems to have perfectly functional eyes, though. Do I look like a guy to you?"

"Yes, because you never grow up from your tomboy-ness. You're pretty cute for a guy, though." I can feel my stomach churning with acid. Oh Holy Mother of Fricken Jesus Christ.

This was going to be an… _interesting_ school life. Or utter misery. Either way, I was going to have one _hell of a year. _

**A/N: Phew! That took me two solid hours! I don't understand how it takes me so long; I've always got the scene in my head, but it takes too long to put it in words. **

**Please R&R! Reviews are much appreciated. Love you readers!**


	3. Dorm&Delicious Abs!

**A/N: Hey everyone! ZirciX is back with another chapter! Sorry it took so long, I had ten tests and quizzes at school because it was the end of quarter. My freaking science teacher doesn't teach us anything, and I had extra homework in Geometry. Thank God I'm not in high school yet.**

**Well, enough with the misery. Hope you enjoy! Please R&R, it really encourages me and makes me update faster.**

**P.S. Thanks so much to these people: ****Shel, my bff! And ****XxAoiHoshixX, ****Lemonandapples, ****Wyntta (you do change your name frequently), ****bLoOdy wiZaRd O.o, ****xxliyoraxx, ****.Leo**

**Even subscribing to my story makes me really happy!**

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My schedule is basically like this: Theory, Geometry, Piano, Club/Elective meeting, PE, English, Music History, and Biology. Thank the Lord that I don't have block-scheduling, or I would die – literally.

Surprisingly, now that the morning classes are over, I have hope that I'll receive something much better than an F for the quarter. My techniques and skills in piano aren't as sharp as others, but I think I'll be able to catch up with practice. As for theory, I studied a lot back when I was desperate to get lessons.

The problem is Geometry and Biology. People who spend one period with me in any math or science class will recognize me as _the_ Retard for the rest of their lifetime. I'd rather take Latin – the foreign, cacophonic noise of the three subjects sound pretty similar, anyways.

I know for sure that I'll get the top grade in P.E. I have a bit of… history with extreme sports, so my reflexes are really fast and I have an unusual stamina.

Okay, I think it's about time I tell you about my extreme self-defense instincts that my brother, Tsubasa, wired into my brain. He was the only one in my family that I could discuss my future plans with openly; he would listen and I would talk, and we'd sit there for hours just enjoying the peace.

He considered me a weak, defenseless girl who could get abducted anytime. Yes, somewhere along the line, he started getting really overprotective of me and taught me tae kwon do, aikido, judo, jiu-jitsu, capoeira, and other martial arts at age eight. Personally, I like tae kwon do and capoeira the best because I'm better at using my legs. I mastered judo, capoeira, and tae kwon do by age thirteen. Tsubasa was really proud. I just felt like a freak that could kill a person with bare hands. I hate to say this, but his sister complex could really be a pain in the ass.

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"Narumi-sensei, do you mind explaining why my name suddenly changed into Mikuo? Or maybe how I'm not registered as a girl, like I am _biologically_? Sure, I'm not the most feminine person in the world, but I don't think that gender is really that hard to distinguish," I hiss through my teeth, gripping Narumi-sensei's shoulder with a cold hand.

"Ha ha… can we possibly discuss this later, Mikuo? I really need to go to my next class…" he stammers, nervously prying my hands off of him.

"There is no next class! School's over!" I drag him into the empty classroom. He sighs, furrowing his brows as he looks at me with an expression that's supposed to look like a puppy-dog face. All he's doing is make me want to punch him in the face, hard.

"There was no more room for the girls, and you have talent, I'm serious. You seemed pretty desperate to get in, too," he whispers.

"But the girl's uniforms were sooo cute! And the guys just piss me off, with that I'm-so-cool attitude. And Hotaru is going to blackmail me every time she has to do a tedious job. I dreamt of a normal, music-filled high school girl's life, not an antisocial paranoid guy's!" I yell.

"Relax, I'll make sure none of the teachers find out, but if you want to stay, then this is what you'll have to cope with. Make sure no one finds out," he murmurs, hushing me.

"Why? Why are you going so far for me? It'll be a load of crap to deal with, both for you and me, so why even bother when I can't even sight read music?"

"Because you have an incredible talent – your ears. To be honest, my condition was really bad that day, but I thought no one would notice. No one ever did, and even if they heard it, they ignored it because I was a famous musician. No one dared to criticize my playing." I hold in my laugh at his confidence/arrogance that he possesses.

"Naru, Naru for narcissist! Whoever your parents were, they gave you the perfect name!" I explode out laughing, banging my head on the table. When I recover from my outburst, I find Naru glaring at me with a pout on his lips.

"Your biggest problem is the… dormitory. You'll grasp your situation fully when you come to class tomorrow." Naru gently shoves me out of the way and walks out through the door.

I'll be frank with you; the dorm is at least four miles from the high school section of Alice Academy, and that is just a bit more than a nice, breezy stroll I would've liked to have – just a _bit_. I arrive at the dormitory, panting and sweating from the jogging pace I kept up on the way. I am _so_ taking my skateboard tomorrow.

"Hey, are you the new kid?" Someone pops out in front of me. Phew, he was a millisecond away from getting his face crushed by my survival instincts, thanks to my self-control.

"Yeah, I'm Mika… Mikuo. What's up?" I try to laugh casually before a small drop of spit goes down the wrong pipe, making me cough madly. He beats my back with excessive force, trying to help, but causing more eruptions of dry coughs from my throat as a result.

"Um, I'm Youichi. I'm a first year, but I've been here since elementary, like most of the guys." I look up from my crouching position and manage to give him a weak smile. His hair is platinum blond and silkier than my hair. Dang, is it just me, or do guys always have better skin, softer hair and prettier face than me? Pisses me off so much!

"I'm from California," I speak, hoping to make normal guy conversation. "Love skateboarding, surfing, snowboarding, long boarding, and any ball games. I'm into baseball now that the Giants are in the World Series."

"That's awesome! I skateboard a lot – there's a rink nearby that I always go to. They're having the annual contests next week; you wanna come and check it out?" he suggests. I try not to seem too eager, 'cause Youichi seems laid back and cool about everything. I guess it's just a guy thing, since it's impossible for me to stay calm especially with ADD. My brain is about to explode from overloading information.

"Yeah, that'd be, like, way cool. Hey, do you know where Room 205 is?" I ask. Please don't let me have a roommate. Please don't let me have a roommate. I start thinking back of all the freaking names of gods and deities I've heard in my entire life.

"Oh, Room 205? You're with Natsume – be careful around him, do NOT get in his way when he wakes up unless you want to die," he answers with a pleasant smile, which, for some reason, sends a wave of chills throughout my body.

"Shit. Are there any spare rooms?" My voice sounds so pleading, so _girly_. I better watch myself from now on.

"No, unless you want to share the attic room with the rats and the spiders," he replies. I wince as he says the word 'spiders', having previous experience on getting bitten by a rather stubborn spider. It ended up as a splatter of black and brown juice on my bedroom wall.

"Oh, that's, um, that's fine, I don't need my own room. Thanks anyways," I respond sulkily.

"Natsume's pretty cool when he's not feeling crappy. If you get along well with him, you'll have privileges at this academy," he leans down to whisper. I step back, creating some room between him and me.

"Shrewd bastard," I curse silently under my breath. "You can't befriend a person, let alone face them with sincerity, if your intentions aren't honest." Whoa, totally unexpected. I sound so _wise_ and _thoughtful_ like a geezer!

"Hmm, yeah, his first impression of me wasn't that great, but I changed when I got to know him more. He's like my bro." He seems rather relieved that I'm not a popularity-obsessed freak. "Oh, here's your room." He hands me a card, like one of those fancy ones you find in luxurious hotels used instead of a key.

"Thanks. Did my stuff arrive yet? The ones that I sent couple weeks ago." I slide the card down the crack, opening the door. The brilliance literally blinds me, and I shield my eyes from the _crystal chandeliers _hanging from the ceiling. I'm starting to feel really out of place.

"Holy [swear word I can't remember]." Youichi chuckles at my reaction.

"This isn't a room for normal people – you got recommended by _the _Narcissist, so obviously you'd be with the top student and his luxury suite," he explains. I just gape with my mouth wide open.

"Uh, yeah, and have you noticed that I'm, like, a normal commoner?" I ask incredulously, rolling my eyes. Maybe I am really hallucinating, maybe I've finally gone mad and my imagination/insanity is taking the better of me.

"Youichi, you brought a new girl again?" a deep voice asks in a sarcastic tone. Holy Shit again; it's the dude who had the manga over his head next to me… and his abs are SOOO HOT! I quickly dab the corner of my mouth to check if I'm drooling.

"No dude, it's your new roommate, a guy at that too," Youichi answers.

"This little squirt?" His olive complexion is so much better than mine.

"Yeah, but he's pretty athletic." And his black shaggy hair, tossed around in a careless manner, somehow manages to stay spiky and gravity-defying.

"Hn. He's so thin; he'd break apart if he did anything." He's towering above, looking at me with those crimson hues that make my heart skip a beat. "It's getting hot in here."

"Yes, you are," I murmur dreamily.

"Huh? What'd you say?" Damn it, why is that dork so thoughtless? – is probably what you're thinking, but try standing in the same room with a breathtakingly gorgeous, half-naked guy, when you've never been within ten yards radius of a male human beings for your entire life (other than your family or relatives).

"Yes, it is. The steam in here's suffocating," I hastily speak up.

"Duh, I just took a shower, can't you tell?" I notice the water glistening on his skin and a towel around his neck. Amazing, even with my extreme ADD, I didn't see that – his abs are that distracting.

"Yeah. I'm Mika-Mikuo, Mikuo Sakura." I should really check out that How to Change Your Personality guide Hotaru recommended. I'm failing at this 'being a guy' thing.

"Natsume," he says. Quite the chatty person, eh?

"Hope you won't mind." I walk in, dropping my bag by the king sized bed and heading straight to the showers.

I turn the knob, feeling the hot water pour down on my skin. This is pure torture, living in the same room with a drop dead hot guy, who apparently didn't and doesn't suspect my sexuality. Am I really that much of a tomboy? And Youichi is so cute, too. Here I am, surrounded by the most stunningly hot guys in existence, and I can't do squat because they think I'm a guy. My 'paradise' life seems to have gotten to the point of torment because it's so perfect, except, of course, my gender.

I throw on some cloths and step out of the bathroom, drying my short hair with a towel.

"Dude, what's up with the short shorts? And the tight tank top? Whoa, you shave your armpits?" Natsume arcs an eyebrow. I put down my arms at superhuman speed.

"I, uh, got these from my ex, and she thought they were like boxers, and it came with the tank top. And I used to be, like, on swim teams, so…" WTF am I blabbering on about? God, if you exist, puh-leez stop the time right now or let me fall into a bottomless pit.

"You still like her?"

"Kind of. We had a bit of, like, history." Okay, not entirely a lie; I don't have an ex, but I do have a history with my girl friends. Don't forget the space between 'girl' and 'friend'.

"Did you sleep with her?" Mental note: do NOT ever say you had a history with your ex, because apparently in dude-talk, it immediately translates to 'I slept with her'.

"HELL NO! Whaddya think I am, like, a slu-playboy?" Cringe. My voice is too high. Note #2: I must never refer to myself as a slut, ever.

"Yeah, airhead." He smirks at me. Ugh, as gorgeous as he may be, I want to wring his neck with my own hands the next time I see that annoying smirk on his face.

"It's not my fault that I speak like an airhead! I'm Californian, for Pete's sake!"

"You could tone down on the number of 'like's you use." Gosh, why is he starting to sound like my parents?

"Mind your own crap. I need to sleep." I yawn, plopping down on the squishy goose feather mattress. Wait, why is Natsume slipping in under the covers next to me? My heart jumps from 60 beats per minute to 175 as I try not to hyperventilate.

"There's only one bed," he says in response to my thoughts. Desperate to hide my pink face, I turn off the light. Cross out 'This is pure torture', it's more like: DANGER ZONE! WATCH OUT FOR CRAZY MAD GIRL THAT WILL BREAK OUT OF HER SELF-CONTROL ANY SECOND AND ATTACK HALF-NAKED HOT GUYS ON FEATHERY BEDS!

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**That chapter was a bit longer than I expected it to be. Whatever. Please R&R! I 333 readers & their comments/reviews, not to be creepy at all or anything. Enjoy Halloween!**


	4. Tarantula and Crepes

**A/N: Hey everyone! Sorry I haven't updated in sooo long! Here's the next chapter of In Love with Music!**

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"Ugh! Oomph! Grrrr! Urgh! Guh! Uuugh!" Just to tell you, I'm not giving birth right now. I'm just practicing my manly grunts. I sound so girly, it's embarrassing. "Urgh! Humph! Uugh!"

"What the hell are you doing?" Natsume asks. At the sound of his voice, I freeze instantly. Through the reflection of the mirror, I see him leaning against the doorway casually, looking at me with that nonchalant gaze.

"Nothing! Um, nothing at all. Just, something is stuck in my throat – mucus, most likely – and I'm trying to get it out." I slowly turn around, hiding my pink-and-white polka dot make-up bag. Why did I even bring that? Oh right, I was still a female human being back then.

"Whatever, just keep the noise down. I can't sleep." Ah, that brings up the incident early in the morning today. I was dreaming about being a rabbit in Wonderland, and I was supposed to guide Alice to an amusement park. Somewhere along the way, I got lost in the forest, and Alice turned into a monster that kept barfing up food until she died. It was like watching bulimia in super fast forwarded mode.

So, I ran until I reached Disneyland. And then, for some random reason, I saw one of those people in giant plushy teddy bear suits who take pictures with you. He began to run away from me when I flailed my arm around madly, trying to get his attention. I pounced on him, clutching his thick fur coat. He started rolling down the hill but I didn't let go 'cause I'm just pigheaded like that. Then his head thing came off and I saw Tsubasa yowling in pain, and he began to transform into a takoyaki. I love takoyaki, ever since the time I visited Japan and ate one at a summer fireworks festival. I began to bite on it, but it was really chewy and smelled like cologne. Funny, I thought, as I tried to chew harder. I so freaking wish I stopped chewing and sucking, then it would've made things a whole lot less awkward when I woke up.

Slowly, the pain was registering into my body, and I opened my eyes to find Natsume on the floor, tangled up in bed sheets, prying my fingers off of his shoulders, and looking very, _very_ pissed. His face was indistinguishable at first, though, because I didn't have my contacts on.

"Uuu, Tsubasa-takoyaki? You're so chewy…" I mumbled. I rubbed my eyes and stifled a yawn as a very dangerous Natsume glared at me. I thought I saw him blush, but I guess it was just his red eyes.

Back to present now. I scratch the side of my head, grinning like a stupid idiot. Oh god, why am I such a freak?

"Yeah." Awkward silence. "Um, sorry – about this morning, you know. I have bad sleeping habits." More silence. Plus a pair of piercing red eyes giving me a WTF look. Like I said earlier, quite the talkative person he is.

_Grrrgh_. What's that disgusting gurgling sound? _Grrrgh_. Oh, my stomach. Come to think of it, I didn't eat anything for lunch or dinner yesterday.

"Where's the cafeteria? I need to grab a breakfast."

"There is no cafeteria." He answers shortly. I wait for more, but obviously he isn't going to waste his breath explaining things I didn't ask him.

"So… where should I go for food?"

"There's a kitchen next to the dining hall. First floor, two doors to the right." Answer in freaking complete sentences bitch! This guy is seriously starting to drive me nuts with that haughty attitude.

"'Kay, thanks. You want something too?" It's never harmful to be polite.

"No, polka-dot." I glance back at the pink bag. Oh crap, he probably thinks that either I have horrible fashion sense, or that I'm gay.

"It's, ur, Hotaru's. She forgot it in my bag." I admit that excuse is lame. He just shrugs and flicks his black, shaggy hair from his shoulder, exposing the colorful purple and blue on his neck. SCREW MANNERS, ONE OF THESE DAYS I'M GOING TO BEAT THE LIGHTS OUT OF THIS BASTARD!

I change into a pair of ragged skinny jeans and a faded grayish blue shirt as soon as he closes the door behind him. My chest has been flat for all of eternity, and as pitiful as it may sound, it's actually quite practical for someone in a situation like mine.

"AH, SHIT!" someone yells. I run out of the luxury hotel suite, dashing down the stairs.

"What's wrong?" I look around the ballroom – yes, they have a _ballroom_ – to see another uber cute boy on top of a coffee table. His hair is the color of light caramel, and his face is so pale, and he's brown eyes are so cute, and he's inching away from a tarantula, and –

"OH MY FUCKING JESUS CHRIST! MOTHER FUCKER, GET ME A BASEBALL BAT! I'M GOING TO SMASH THAT THING INTO JELLY!" I yell out loud before I can even stop myself. Nonetheless, the tarantula keeps advancing on the poor boy that's cussing out his heart by now. My mind: EMERGENCY! MUST SAVE CUTE/GORGEOUS GUY FROM EVIL TARANTULA!

"Take this bitch!" I give a beastly war cry and lunge at the thing, sweeping it off the table with my foot. Good thing I'm wearing military boots (don't even ask why I have it).

All of a sudden, the freaking thing jumps up like ten feet in the air, no joke. And guess who's screaming like a girl with supersonic eardrum piercing voice? No, not me; that cute guy is taking care of that _right now_.

"Shut up, you're going to kill someone!" I lift him off the table and distance him from the spider that's now on the flower vase.

The spider slowly crawls away from all breakable things in the room, and just as I smash it with the heel of my foot, another guy comes running in. What is up with these ridiculously smexy guys?

"NO! Celeste!" he yells. I make a sour face at the puddle of twitching hairy legs and gooey substance consisting of God-knows-what.

"Crap," I mutter, cursing at the damn spider for ruining a pair of fine shoes. I glimpse back at the double door to see a crowd of the dormitory's inhabitants staring at the pleasant morning surprise.

"Celeste!" The guy who just arrived looks like he's about to start crying hysterically. I roll my eyes at the scene he's making. Celeste? Naming a freaking hairy, _vicious_ monster Celeste? Wow, this guy is hardcore.

"You killed her," he mutters, glaring up at me.

"Yeah, it was either the poisonous fiend or the poor boy. Which one would you choose? Oh, I don't know, maybe the spider? HELLO! No one wants to live in constant fear for their own lives every day!" is what I would love to say, but since I'm such a nice person, I just shrug and replied, "Sorry, I didn't think this was your pet."

"Luca, seriously, keep your hazardous 'pets' safely locked behind the cage bars," Cute Boy #3 (I'm just going to call him that for now) says icily. "You scared the hell out of the new student." What? Am I hearing this correctly? The one about to take a piss in his pants was you!

"Yeah, Koko, like anyone scared of a spider could brutally murder it like he just did! Besides, if you didn't overreact, he wouldn't have killed Celeste." Hmm, I think I saw that crazy guy yesterday… oh yeah! He was the one sitting next to Natsume, eyeing me suspiciously. Huh, what a coinkidink.

"What the hell? Anyone except you would freak out in that kind of a situation!" The boy, supposedly called Koko, yells.

"Hey, hey, hey, what's going on here?" Oh goody, another eye candy makes an entrance.

"Tono, Luca is going crazy with his pets _again_." Koko answers. So it's not the first time something like this has happened. A chill goes down my spine, for a very good reason.

"Ugh, why bother crying over spilled milk? It's done now; I'll go clean this up. Does anyone want breakfast? I can cook crepes." I spill out, feeling awkward with the entire dorm inhabitants gawking at me and the three others.

"YES! FINALLY, SOMEONE WHO CAN COOK!" the dorm students whisper among themselves excitedly. What have they been eating over the last several years at this school?

The sizzling sound of the crepes on the skillet must've attracted the entire dorm residents. I just finished the first batch, and in the dining hall, there's double the number of people there were to begin with.

"Line up and get your food," I order. Everyone looks at me like I said something really stupid. Did they find out that I'm a girl? Damn it, I shouldn't have offered to cook.

"What? You're kidding, right? Even at the school restaurant, there are waiters and waitresses who serve us food." One person complains rather loudly. The crowd starts murmuring in agreement, nodding their heads like a bobby-head.

"You want food? Come and get it, lazy bums." I set down forty crepes, powder sugar, fresh berries, Nutella and jam on the counter and go back inside the kitchen.

I come out with another eighty hot crepes to see that the previous batch hasn't even been touched yet. "What the fuck?" I mutter. Clearly, these guys didn't have proper education on manners.

"We aren't getting up. Serve it to us." They chant in unison. _Okay, Mikan, take a deep breath, there's nothing to be mad about…_

"Yeah, we aren't commoners! We're from prestigious high class families!" they yell. _Just focus on breathing. Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale…_

"We aren't fags who cook food all time or serve it." One of them snickers. Okay, that just did it. I am going to gut these freaks with my own hands!

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" I yell, punching my fists onto a table. Too bad the table is weak – my hands leave a giant hole through it like it's made of balsa wood or something. "YOU WANT FOOD? WORK FOR IT, BITCHES! I AM NOT GOING TO PUT UP WITH THIS CRAP ANYMORE! IF ANYONE'S GOT A PROBLEM, I'LL TEACH YOU A LESSON WITH MY FISTS." My voice thunders.

"Someone's got anger management problems," a person breaks the silence. The brats start cracking up. I storm up to the kid who said that smart-alec comment.

"Ooh, he's going to hit me!" he laughs again. I sweep him with a scrutinizing gaze, who apparently thinks he's so bad-ass he'd pick a fight with the new guy. His muscles are fake, built up on steroids or the likes of it. His fashion sense isn't all that keen, either, because he's wearing the cheesiest Goth/punk clothes I've ever seen in my life. I love Goth clothes except when it's really ugly or doesn't suit the cloth-hanger (meaning the boy) at all. It's both, in this case.

"Are you picking a fight with me?" I speak clearly in a surprisingly calm voice.

"You got that damn right, Captain Obvious." He sneers. Oh god, what horrible yellow teeth. He makes his chair fall down as he lunges for my head. Swiftly dodging it, I grab his right wrist and pull him hard, twisting his arm behind his back. He yelps in pain, but kicks me hard in the shin with the heel of his foot. Shit, that hurt like hell. I kick the back of his knees, making him buckle down onto the ground.

Suddenly, a gush of wind whizzes past my ear. I look back to see that the people at the table are all standing up in a fighting stance. They attack me all at once, and I maneuver my body to flex and bend away from their violent limbs, but after a while, the blows start to land on my back.

"Goddamnit, I was trying so hard not to use my feet." I spit.

"Would it make any difference, squirt?" the buzz-cut dude asks with a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

"Oh, hell yeah. You'd be crying for your mommies." I smirk.

"Let's see you try," he retorts. I jump up three feet into the air and land a side-kick on his stomach, crashing him into the person behind him. Whirling around, I kick my left leg backwards just in time to smack another guy straight up his chin. The guys begin to advance on me more cautiously, but I crouch down swiftly and sweep my leg in front of me to trip them.

The fight ends shortly after going on for a couple of minutes, and everyone now lies on the floor, knocked out unconscious.

"Crazy… didn't even break a sweat… ten against one victory… monster power… so small…" The kids mumble in awe.

"Bastards, next time I'll gut you and take your own intestines to make a noose around your necks. Then I'll skin you alive and roast you ever so slowly over a medium fire till you're a nice rare steak. I'll let you live for another couple of hours (because I'm so gracious like that) before chopping off your appendages one by one and throwing them in a fire before your own eyes. Let's see if you're still talking back at me then." I chuckle in amusement, purely delighted by my creativity.

"Any questions?" I ask, twirling around and flashing an innocent (?) smile. The students are in a perfectly straight line, taking the crepes in an orderly fashion. I'm branded the school's crazy short-tempered kid, again. And it was all over just a stupid argument about who's going to serve the crepes. At least no one will talk back at me now. I DON'T WANT TO BE AN ANTISOCIAL FREAK FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE!

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**A/N: Please review! **

**Thanks so much to: ****Kai, ****mrysmanga, ****Suuzumii, ****DiamondFlower1998, ****XxAoiHoshixX**

**BTW I'm going to go to Seoul, S. Korea for this winter break! I might add a little bonus scene if I get any good ideas from there!**


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